Possessed
by The Chosen One of Randomness
Summary: What if the part of Voldemort's soul that was in Harry was stronger? Ever since he was 3, Harry became possessed by Lord Voldemort whenever he became upset. What will the Wizard world do when they find out that Harry has you-know-who's soul inside him?
1. Possessed

**If you look on my profile, you will notice that I posted a story that had some ideas of things that I wanted to write for Harry Potter fan fiction. However, this idea popped into my mind and I felt a strong need to write this. You can still go to my other story and leave a review telling me which idea you like the best.**

**Disclaimer:**

**The author of Harry Potter is blonde.**

Wait, I'm blonde.

**The author of Harry Potter is creative.**

So am I.

**And the author of Harry Potter is a world famous writer.**

Darn.

_**Possessed**_

Anyone who could describe the family that lived in number four, Privet Drive, would say that the Dursleys were a normal, well-mannered family. And the Dursleys wanted to keep it that way.

If someone asked you to describe the family's personalities, they would probably tell you how the mother, Petunia, always tried to act impressive, and made sure both the children of the house were happy. They would probably say that Vernon Dursley had a huge temper, yet could be intimidated easily. Most likely, they would talk about how the Dursley's son, Dudley, was spoiled rotten, and was very used to getting what he wanted. But, I would think they wouldn't have much to say about the Dursley's nephew, Harry Potter.

Harry was a mystery to anyone who met him. He was small, even for a six year old, with big emerald eyes, black hair that stuck up in every direction, and a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead.

He almost never spoke, and when he did, it was short, and to the point. And it seemed as if he never became upset or angry, and he was not often happy either (although it seemed like it was his Aunt's life ambition to make him smile.) Usually, the boy took on an expressionless face, as if he had no emotion whatsoever. But, if one looked close enough, and stared straight into Harry's eyes, they would see terror, as if he had just watched a horror movie, and he was convinced that someone was going to attack or kill him.

But this was not the case. They boy was not afraid of a murderer, or any other person he'd ever met. He was, however, afraid of himself.

When Harry appeared on the porch of number four, Privet Drive, the Dursleys wanted nothing to do with him, but kept him anyway, due to the wishes of Albus Dumbledore. They put some blankets on the bottom of their cupboard underneath the stairs, and called that Harry's new bedroom.

But this was not his room for very long.

It all started when Harry and Dudley were three years old. The entire family was in the sitting room, the adults watching the television, and Dudley playing with his toys. Harry sat quietly.

At that moment, Dudley was playing with two toy trucks, and many action figures, which Dudley would run over. Harry wanted to play too.

Dudley had quite a lot of action figures, and there were a few that he wasn't using. Harry didn't think Dudley would mind if he played with just one.

Harry was wrong.

When Dudley saw him grab the toy, he immediately pulled it away from his cousin's grasp, them hit him. Hard.

Vernon and Petunia watched the exchange between the boys, unconcerned. In their minds, their nephew was a freak and deserved to be treated badly.

But then everything changed.

Harry was on his hands and knees, shaking and moaning, as if he was in deep pain. They assumed it was his way of throwing a tantrum, or trying to get attention. His breath was short and quick, and finally he let loose a terrible, anguished scream and collapsed to the floor.

A few seconds later, the boy got up, his breathing was normal, and everything seemed fine.

Until they saw his eyes.

Instead of their usual bright green, they were a startling blood red. He turned a deadly glare on Dudley, and spoke no louder than a whisper. "Give it to me."

Luckily, Dudley had some common sense, even though he was three, and quietly handed over the toy. Harry had an evil smile on his face, and gave a small laugh.

Meanwhile, there was panic in the boy's mind. Something had taken over him, making his body do and say things he never would have done before. He could only watch himself frighten Dudley. He tried to get back into control, feeling pain as he did it, but eventually, his eyes returned to their normal emerald green.

They all stared at him with wide eyes, terrified that it would happen again. And it did.

Whenever Harry became angry or upset, the red eyes would take over. He was moved out of the cupboard and into Dudley's second bedroom, he was allowed to play with any of Dudley's toys, and his Uncle and Aunt were willing to get him almost anything. The Dursley's didn't want the red eyes to come back.

And Harry was confused. He didn't know if he should be thankful for the red eyes, because he now had some items to call his own, sad, because the Dursleys were never going to treat him normally, or frightened, because the red eyes hurt him so much, and when they took over had no control over himself.

He chose to be terrified.

He was a smart boy, and started trying to figure out ways to keep himself from getting upset. The result was the emotionless state he was in when he was six. Of course, there where some times when he couldn't hold his emotions in any longer, and the red eyes visited again.

Harry's blank expression did not go unnoticed by his teacher, Ms. Rolling, who would often ask him if he was okay, and eventually called Aunt Petunia asking if this was normal behavior.

Another thing that didn't go unnoticed was his lack of friends. The other kids thought he was strange, and some were even a little afraid of him, and Harry had no desire to make friends. He was sure that he would eventually get upset if he had a friend, and the red eyes would take over. He didn't want to hurt anyone.

Ms. Rolling tried had to get Harry to go play with the other kids, but it never worked. She knew the boy would need someone to talk to, and decided that she would be a friend to Harry.

As the other students went out for recess, she pulled him aside.

"Harry, would you like to stay inside with me today?"

Harry gave her a confused look, wondering if there was anything he did wrong, or anything that she would want to talk to him about. He couldn't think of anything, and gave her a small nod.

Ms. Rolling smiled at him. "Great!"

She had them sit at a table, facing across from each other.

"So Harry, what do you like to do when you're not at school?"

The boy thought for a moment. "I read a lot," he said quietly, "and I like to draw."

"Should I get you some paper? Do you want to draw as you talk to me?" Harry nodded, liking that idea. She set some crayons in front of him, along with a sheet of paper. As he drew, he leaned over the page, so she couldn't see what he was drawing.

"What books do like to read?" She asked, expecting it to be a picture book. But instead he responded with, "The Secrets of Droon."

It wasn't a very popular book series, but she knew that it was a book a nine year old would normally read. Not a six year old.

"Does your Aunt read it to you?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I read it to myself."

Now she found herself interested. None of the other kids in the class could read very well; they were still learning.

"What do like most about the books?"

"The magic." There was no hesitation as he said it. He automatically knew that the magic was his favorite part of the series. And then he smiled. It was a small smile, and he only did it for a second, but that was the very first time she had ever seen him show any form of happiness. It gave her a warm feeling inside, and made her happy too. Also, she now had a topic to talk to him about.

"What would you want to be able to do if you had magic?"

This made him stop drawing for a moment. What would he want to do with it? If he were a normal boy, he probably would say that he would want to shoot fire from a magic wand, or something similar. But, he was not a normal boy, and he didn't want to do something that the red eyes could use against him.

Something helpful, not harmful.

"It would be nice to turn invisible." He finally said, and continued with his drawing. Ms. Rolling smiled. "Why would you like to do that?" He looked at her and sat up straight, as he was now finished with his drawing. "It couldn't hurt people."

Before she responded, he slid his paper over to her. She looked down at his now finished drawing, and couldn't believe her eyes. It was a picture of her, and although it was done in crayon, she felt like she was looking in a mirror. He had gotten her short brown hair and blue eyes exactly right. Harry was a natural artist.

"This is wonderful, Harry." And just like that, he had his very first friend.

As Harry continued his years in Primary school, he continued to be friends with Ms. Rolling. He would come to her room to have lunch, and visited her after school had ended. She was the only one who had ever seen him smile more than once, and she was probably one of the only people who had ever heard him laugh since the first time the red eyes came.

She had also seen him angry.

Two boys had been teasing Harry after school when he was eight. One had dirty blond hair, the other with dark brown.

"You're such a freak!" Blond boy had told him. "I don't know why Dudley said we shouldn't mess with you; you never do anything!"

"Yeah," Brown boy agreed, "I bet you wouldn't do anything even if I pushed you like _this_." And the boy shoved Harry to the ground.

Ms. Rolling saw this happen, but it was too late; Harry was loosing control.

From the ground Harry's breathing became quick and shallow. Blond boy stood over him. "Is the freak crying?" He taunted, but Harry's scream shut him up.

Ms. Rolling had gotten to the boys by the time Harry had picked himself up, his eyes the frightening blood red. He turned to face the two boys. "I'm a freak?" He spoke in his deadly whisper, making shivers run down Ms. Rolling's back.

Harry grabbed the collar of blond boys shirt, and pulled him to stare straight into red eyes. "I dare you to say that again."

Ms. Rolling tried to separate Harry from the boy, but he wouldn't budge. It was as if Harry was made of stone.

"Don't kill me!" Blond boy whimpered, positive he was going to die. Instead, Harry shoved him to the ground, just like what had happened to him. Harry then turned to face brown boy. "If you know what is good for you, you will run. Now." And the boy ran, blonde boy following him.

Harry collapsed again, and after a few seconds his eyes turned back to normal. He turned to face Ms. Rolling, panic etched into his face. "I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" Harry hadn't gotten a response by the time he was in tears, both pitying himself and the boys. "I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"

Ms. Rolling pulled him close to her, and though she didn't know what had happened to him, she could understand that he didn't mean it, and couldn't control it.

"It's alright, it's okay; I won't let you hurt anyone." She chanted, now understanding why he was so afraid of his own emotions.

**AUTHORS NOTE:**

**IMPORTANT PLEASE READ! **

_**I want to know whether or not you think James and Lily should be alive in this story. **_

**I think it would be interesting to write about their reactions to Harry being possessed by Voldemort. But, if you think his parents should be dead in this story, that's fine with me.**

**I know that this chapter is a bit boring, but it will get better. I promise.**

**Also, I have no idea when I will update this story. I promise I will write more, but I don't want this story to feel like a chore instead of a hobby. I will wr**

**THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING MY FIRST CHAPTER!**

**Like it? Hate it? Continue it? Delete it? Read it. REVIEW it.**

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	2. Letter

**Disclaimer: **

**If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction. (I would be off buying pointless items with my ridiculous amount of money.)**

_**Letter**_

_Last Chapter: __"It's alright, it's okay; I won't let you hurt anyone." She chanted, now understanding why he was so afraid of his own emotions._

Now it was years after that happened. In fact, today was Harry's eleventh birthday. He continued to be friends with Ms. Rolling, but he wouldn't get to see her as often anymore, as he was now going to begin his learning at the Secondary school, Stonewall High. He had been accepted to his Uncle's old private school, Smeltings, but one glance at the uniform was all it took to say no.

Harry awoke on that morning with his Aunt carefully shaking him awake. "Harry," she whispered, "it's your birthday. Please get up." She did this as nicely as possible, not wanting him annoyed on his birthday morning. That would be bad for everyone.

He slowly sat up in his bed, yawned, then grabbed his glasses from his desk.

Aunt Petunia gave him a large (yet very fake) smile. "Happy birthday!" Harry gave her no response, instead looking out the window. "It's raining." His voice was completely even, with no trace of emotion in it, like a machine.

This alarmed her. The unspoken rule in the Dursley house was 'Keep Harry happy.' So if he didn't want rain, they would get in their car and drive him to a place that's sunny, if he told them it would please him. The entire family hated the red eyes.

"Yes, it is. I'm sorry. What can I do to make you happier?" She was ready to tell Vernon to get the car started.

But Harry shook his head. "I like rain. Can we please draw back all the curtains?" She breathed a sigh of relief, then nodded. "Yes, we can do that. Would you like to come downstairs for breakfast?"

He nodded, and followed his Aunt down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He could smell pancakes and bacon before he made it into the room.

Harry quietly grabbed a plate and served himself two pancakes and a piece of bacon, then sat down at the table, eating quietly.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon came into the room moments after, saying a quick "Happy birthday" before filling their plates with food. The house was entirely silent, except for the clinking of silverware on the plates. Aunt Petunia was the first one to dare to speak.

"Harry, your presents are on the couch in the lounge."

Harry looked up from his cleared plate, still expressionless. "I told you I didn't want anything." He said it in his even, robotic voice.

"W-well, yes, but we thought that you might enjoy some of the things we got you. And there aren't a lot, see?"

Harry knew that she was silently terrified that she had done the wrong thing, so he gave her a small nod. "Alright then, but if I don't want it, it will be donated to the homeless."

The three Dursleys all gave sighs of relief, which Harry began to notice they did quite often.

So, after everyone was finished with breakfast (they all started eating rather quickly once they realized Harry was done) they moved on to the lounge for Harry to open presents.

Aunt Petunia was right when she said there weren't many, especially compared to what Dudley usually got. There were four, the sizes ranging from big and thin to short and fat.

Harry decided to open the smallest one first, and was pleasantly surprised to see a professional box of colored pencils. It had a wide variety of color and a little booklet that gave tips on making a picture more life-like.

Ever since Ms. Rolling had told him he was a great artist when he was six, he had worked hard to perfect his drawing skills. Art teachers had begged him to submit some of his drawings into contests, but Harry had refused all of them; it would be too easy to get angry.

The next was the book _The Da Vinci Code_, which Harry had already read, but decided not to tell the Dursleys, because he really didn't want to deal with their panic and apologies. Besides, he read so often that he couldn't really expect anyone to figure out which books he had or hadn't read.

The third was a large set of oil paints, which were very tricky to use. The final painting could either look incredible, or like a child who had tried to copy a masterpiece by finger painting. He liked the challenge.

The final gift, the one that was big and thin, turned out to be a professional canvas. Something to use the oil paints on, once he had mastered the technique.

Harry looked up at the Dursleys, who were all looking quite nervous. "I am happy with my gifts. Thank you." He still spoke in his emotionless voice.

The Dursleys let out yet another sigh of relief, which was beginning to annoy Harry, although he wasn't going to tell them that.

"I'm going to take my gifts to my room. I'll be back shortly." He tucked the book and art supplies under one arm, the canvas under the other. He quickly made his way to his room, and set his things on his desk. Walking back down the stairs, he noticed the mail lying on the rug. They must have forgotten to grab it.

He picked up the different letters and looked through them on his way back to the lounge. Mostly, it was all junk mail, but the last letter he saw gave him a surprise. It was for him.

He didn't have any friends beside Ms. Rolling, who had already sent him a letter yesterday, wishing him a happy birthday.

The way the letter was addressed was even stranger.

**Mr. H. Potter**

**The Smallest Bedroom**

**4 Privet Drive**

**Little Whinging**

**Surrey**

The envelope was thick and looked as if it was made of a yellowish parchment. Was this a joke?

Harry made his way back to the lounge, still puzzled by the letter. "Aunt Petunia?" he asked with the robotic-like voice **(Do I still need to mention the emotionlessness?) **"I think I've been sent prank mail." He held the letter up to show her, and both his Uncle and Aunt gasped.

"H-harry?" Her voice quivered as she spoke. "Can you give that to me please? Uncle Vernon and I recognize it, and it can sometimes be dangerous." She spoke slowly, being careful to choose her words correctly.

Harry handed it to her without a word. "Vernon and I need to discuss some things. Why don't you boys go do something else for a while?" They quickly made their way to the kitchen, and locked the door behind them.

Harry and Dudley were far too curious to not investigate, so both quietly put their ears against the door. Harry couldn't hear much of what they were saying, only parts of the conversation.

Aunt Petunia: "What do we do? We don't want another one."

Uncle Vernon: "…don't know…circumstances…might help"

Aunt Petunia: "You think...it stop?"

Uncle Vernon: "…not sure…worse or it could make…better. Still would learn…"

Aunt Petunia: "We'll write back…tell them he only goes…they can fix it.

Uncle Vernon: "…best, still don't want one…"

They could hear the conversation coming to an end, and quickly went upstairs. Harry tried to figure out what the conversation meant. They didn't want something, but they think it would help, and he would have to go get it, but he would only go if they tell the Dursleys that they can fix it. This was very confusing,

A sharp knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. "Come in."

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia came into his room, both with nervous looks on their faces.

"Harry," Uncle Vernon began, "you've been accepted into a school." This puzzled Harry. "I'm going to Stonewall. I never applied to any other school." His emotionless voice seemed to make them even more nervous.

Aunt Petunia thought it would be best to continue "Well, yes that's true, but they've had your name in their system for a while. Your parents went there."

This got Harry interested. "My parents?" Aunt Petunia nodded. "Yes, they both went there. But, before you make a decision, someone from the school is going to come here to talk to you, and tell you about where you're going. It's a boarding school, so you would only be here in the summer, and during the holidays, although you can stay there during Christmas if you want."

Harry nodded. "Alright, I'll talk to this person."

His Aunt and Uncle left the room, and Harry quickly got out a piece of paper.

_Dear Ms. Rolling,_

_ I've jus been accepted into a school I've never heard of…_

-Line break that didn't show up in last chapter for reasons unknown-

Meanwhile, in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts, quite a number of people were anticipated, nervous, and excited, all at the same time.

"Well, it's been sent." The headmaster of the school, Albus Dumbledore, announced to the group. "All we can do now is wait for a response."

James Potter was giddy with excitement. This was the first form of contact anyone from the Wizard World would have with him since Lord Voldemort attacked, and was defeated. His lovely wife, Lily, had died in the attack, while he had only been stunned, and Harry left with a scar.

Voldemort had stunned him hoping that when he had finished killing Harry, he might be able to use James to find out more about the Order of the Phoenix, and the auror department in the Ministry of Magic.

Although James wanted to raise his son on his own, with the help of his two best friends Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black, Dumbledore thought it would be best to let Harry grow up without being surrounded by the fame and, according to Dumbledore, it would also help him stay safe. James could only imagine what his son was like.

_He had Lily's eyes,_ He thought, _and my hair. _The rest he could only fantasize about. _He will be smart and brave._ Two things both his parents had. _I hope he has a sense of humor, like me. He could be the next generation Marauder. _

The other adults in the room, including Sirius, Remus, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout, were all thinking similar things.

They all stayed in the office for a while, talking amongst themselves, and trying to figure out as much as they could without meeting him. "He'll be in Gryffindor for sure," Professor McGonagall announced, "with James and Lily as parents, how could he not?" Everyone seemed to agree with this.

"And he will definitely be talented" Flitwick said. "Both his parents were amazing with learning magic when they were at Hogwarts." There was more agreement.

People began calling out other things. 'Good sense of humor!" "Stubborn" "Good looking!" "Has a big temper!"

This continued for a while, until an old barn owl flew in through the window.

McGonagall was the first to realize. "That's the owl that was sent to Harry!" Everyone got out of their chairs, all wanting to see the reply letter first. With a flick of his wand, Albus Dumbledore put them all back in their seats. "I will read the letter, because all of you seem to be unable to agree on who will on your own.

He unrolled the piece of muggle paper, and began to read.

"_Dear Hogwarts Staff,_

_ We have not given Harry his school letter _"What?" _due to the fact that we have not told him that he is a wizard. In fact, we have not told him much of anything of his life before he came here. However, we would like for him to go to your school, and we would appreciate if someone could come and explain the school better to Harry. Before we send him, we would like to confirm that you can stop the strange things that happen when he gets angry. Harry gets quite upset with himself when these things happen, due to the fact that he has accidentally harmed people._

_ Eagerly awaiting your response,_

_ Mr. and Mrs. Dursley._

Albus Dumbledore put the letter down and scanned the room.

"I get to go meet him! Dibs!" Sirius yelled. A chorus of "Hey, no fairs!" echoed around the room.

"I get to go, he's my son!" James exclaimed.

"Everyone, quiet!" The headmaster's voice boomed throughout the office. A hush spread through the room. "Professor McGonagall will go." The professor let out an excited gasp as James yelled out "What? Why?"

"Put yourself into his shoes. It would be frightening to have a man come into your home saying that he's your father, then having the man proceed to tell you about a world that you never knew existed. Also, I don't think you can handle the situation as maturely as Minerva can. And it's Professor McGonagall's name that was on the letter, not yours."

He had a point, but it still upset him that he wouldn't be the first to meet his son.

"I'll tell all of you everything I can about him after our meeting." McGonagall assured the group.

"You better."

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**I would like to start out by saying thank you to my reviewers. I was so happy to hear your thoughts and encouragement. I am okay with any form of criticism, and I'm always trying to improve my writing.**

**I decided that I did want to have Harry's parents in this story, but some of my reviewers brought up the point that Harry wouldn't have Voldemort's soul inside him if his mother didn't make the sacrefice.**

**One of my reviewers, gryphenvoid, came up with the idea to only have James be alive. I really liked the idea. I hope I explained why Harry ended up at the Dursley's well enough, but please leave a comment if you think I forgot anything, or there was something I should have mentioned.**

**Thank you soooooooooo much for reading my story!**

**Like it? Hate? Continue it? Delete it? Read it. REVIEW it.**

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	3. Magic

**Hey guys. Sorry it's been taking so long for me to update. I've been busy with school and stuff. It's not much of an excuse, but I want to make it clear that I will only write when I want to, and that fanfiction shouldn't feel like a chore.**

**D**o you think

**I**t would be

**S**o

**C**ool to

**L**egally

**A**nnounce that

**I**

**M**ade the

**E**xciting

**R**ealm of Harry Potter

_**Magic**_

Professor McGonagall was nervous, to say the least. She was going over to a magic-hating muggle home to meet a boy who defeated one of the greatest wizards of all time, and invite him to go to a school to learn magic, while not knowing that magic is real.

Yeah, she was nervous.

She was wearing muggle clothes, which she felt quite silly in, but she knew that it would make the situation worse to arrive in witch's robes when Harry knew nothing about their world.

"_Diela_" McGonagall whispered while flicking her wand. A set of numbers showing the time hovered in the air. 11:48. She was supposed to arrive at the Dursley's house at noon, but she was planning on apparating **(Did I spell that correctly?)** a few minuets early, just to make sure her timing was exactly right. She liked to be exactly punctual.

_All right, I'm ready to go._

-Line Break-

Meanwhile, in the home of number four, Privet Drive, Harry Potter was not thinking about his meeting with the professor. In fact, he wasn't thinking of anything besides the oil paint he was working on.

Harry had been up most of the night working with the paint, figuring out good techniques to use on his canvas, which he was not going to paint on until he was positive he would be happy with his work.

Harry was so focused on his painting that he didn't even hear the doorbell ring, or Aunt Petunia greeting the Professor from the boarding school.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Professor McGonagall was looking at Petunia Dursley for the first time in almost ten years.

"Hello," She greeted, shaking the woman's hand. "I'm Professor McGonagall from Hogwarts. I'm here to talk to Harry."

"Oh, of course. Come in. I'm Petunia Dursley." Mrs. Dursley led the professor to the lounge. "Please have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink? Tea? Coffee?"

"No, I'm fine. May I please see Harry?"

Petunia paused. "Actually, before I do that, can I confirm that you can help Harry with the…problems he has when he gets angry?"

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Of course I can. These things that happen are just occurrences of accidental magic. Harry has not yet learned how to control his power, so his emotions can trigger the magic inside him that wants to come out. At Hogwarts, he will be taught how to concentrate and focus his magic away from his emotions. It should no longer happen after his first year, except on rare occasions."

Aunt Petunia gave a delighted smile. By the end of the year she and her family would no longer have to worry about the red eyes. "Thank you, I'll go get Harry now."

She left the room, leaving Professor McGonagall a moment to think quietly on the couch. _He must be powerful,_ she thought, _to cause such a concern about his accidental magic. Or he has no control over his emotions. Most likely both._

But all these thoughts faded as the boy entered the room. His face was blank, as if he had no emotion at all. Perhaps this was what he was like when he was nervous.

"Hello Harry. My name is Professor McGonagall." She shook his hand as he replied, "Harry Potter. Nice to meet you." She suddenly pulled her hand away in shock. The boy's voice had no emotion.

None.

At all.

"Sorry." He apologized. But he didn't sound sorry; he didn't sound much like anything.

"No, I'm sorry Mr. Potter. Please sit down, we have much to talk about." He sat on the opposite side of the couch, slightly turned to face toward her.

The professor thought for a moment. _Better just get straight to the point_. "Well, I believe the first thing I need to tell you, is that you're a wizard." She looked up at his face, hoping for any sort of reaction. No luck. She continued on. "The school you've been invited to is called Hogwarts. There you can learn to understand and control your magic. I believe your Aunt mentioned that you have performed some accidental magic at times when you've become angry."

She got a reaction, but not the type she was hoping for. His face hardened to a glare, and he stared straight into her eyes. "If that's what magic is, then I don't want to learn it."

She was shocked. What sort of accidental magic had he done that would make him hate the idea so much? "Mr. Potter, I understand that you've had some problems with magic, but I can assure you that you would love magic once you learned it properly. Would you care for a demonstration?"

Harry nodded silently, half anticipating her eyes to change color and lighting things on fire while grinning evilly. Instead, she got out a wooden stick, which he was guessing was a magic wand, and muttered a few unrecognizable words while pointing at the coffee table.

Before his eyes, the table shifted into a dog, which barked a few times and panted, before turning back to normal.

"See, that was magic, and nothing bad happened. That's the sort of thing you will learn at Hogwarts, but you'll start off smaller, like turning matches into needles and such."

Harry nodded. "Will I learn how to control the bad magic?"

Professor McGonagall smiled. "Yes, of course. By the end of the year, accidental magic won't be a problem anymore, except on very rare occasions, and in a few years it won't be a problem at all."

Harry imagined it; a life without having to worry about being attacked by the red eyes, or accidentally hurting other people. He liked the thought.

"My parents," he asked. "Were they magical too?"

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Yes, your mother was a very smart witch, and very brave too. And your father excels in fighting the dark arts."

Harry noticed that McGonagall said 'your mother was' when referring to his mum, and 'your father excels' when mentioning his dad. He had never really thought about his parents, as he had lived with the Dursleys his whole life. It never occurred to him that his father was still alive.

Instead of asking more about his parents, he started on a new topic.

"What sort of school supplies will I need for Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "Actually, all the school supplies are in your letter. Oh, I've forgotten to give it to you, haven't I?" Professor McGonagall handed him a yellowish envelope with a seal that had an H on it.

Harry pulled out the letter inside and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted

at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please

find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no

later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

_**Minerva McGonagall**_

Minerva McGonagall

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry then looked at the next sheet with all his school supplies. "Where do I find all this? And will it be very expensive?" he asked.

"This can all be found at a magical part of London called Diagon Alley. I will escort you there tomorrow. And you don't need to worry about expenses; your family has a large vault a Gringotts, the wizard bank. All the money you need is right there."

Harry noticed that for the second time Professor McGonagall had worded her sentences as if to state that Harry's family was still alive. _I don't care_, he told himself, _they obviously don't want me if they left me here_.

"Do you have any other questions?" McGonagall asked him.

"No."

She still couldn't get over his voice. "Well, alright, then I shall see you tomorrow. Does eleven o' clock sound alright?" Harry nodded. "Good day Mr. Potter."

Professor McGonagall said goodbye to Mrs. Dursley, and left, eager to tell the impatient people at Hogwarts all about this boy.

-Line Break-

James Potter sat in the Headmaster's office, tapping his hand impatiently on the chair. The same group of people who were there when Harry's letter was sent were here again, along with Snape, who seemed to think their excitement over Harry was amusing and childish.

"He's just a boy," he had said. "And he's going to be just as arrogant and airheaded as his father." Remus and Flitwick had to hold James and Sirius back to keep them from hexing Snape. They were stuck in a body-bind curse until they promised not to attack, much to the enjoyment of the potions professor.

After an hour, the flames in the fireplace turned green, and Minerva McGonagall stepped out, a look of shock and confusion on her face. She was immediately assaulted with questions.

"What does he look like?"

"Is he funny?"

"Is he just as airheaded as his father?"

"Was he surprised?"

"Did he seem smart?"

"He's awesome, right?"

"SILENCE!" Professor Dumbledore said, using the _Sonorus_ charm. Everyone got quiet and moved away from her. "Thank you. Now, Minerva, please tell us all about your visit with Mr. Potter."

McGonagall was quiet for a moment, thinking. "I was shocked. I just got so frustrated while talking to Harry; it crossed my mind more than once to slap him!" All at once, everyone started talking again.

"What do you mean you wanted to slap him?"

"Was he rude?"

"What made you get frustrated?"

"Was he an annoying little brat like Potter?"

It was McGonagall that used the _sonorus_ charm this time. "QUIET EVERYONE"

Again the room fell into silence. "Please tell us exactly what happened, Minerva." Dumbledore asked again.

Turning to face the group, she told them all about her meeting with Harry. "Petunia was there to greet me first, and before she went to go get him, she had me assure her that his accidental magic would stop. I told her that it would, and she led me to the sitting room. I was thinking that he must have a lot of power or couldn't control his emotions, if they were that worried. But then he came into the room, and he didn't seem nervous or excited or anything. He was totally emotionless. I assumed this was just what he was like when he was nervous.

"I introduced myself, and he told me his name. I was so surprised when he spoke. His voice was…empty, like he had never had any emotions before. I decided to be blunt, I don't know why; I just thought that it might prove that he can be surprised too. The first thing I said was "you're a wizard." He didn't even blink! I told him that his Aunt seemed concerned about his accidental magic, and he glared at me! He told me that if that was magic, then he didn't want to learn."

The group was silent. What had he done that would make him hate magic so much?

"I assured him that the magic he will learn would not be bad or dangerous, and answered some other questions he had, and then we agreed to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow at eleven o' clock. But I don't know if I can last another meeting with him! I was so frustrated. His lack of emotion just made me upset!"

Again they were silent. Why was he like this? Did something bad happen? What was wrong with Harry Potter?

**So there's chapter 3. Finally finished. I don't know why, but I had a hard time writing this chapter, and I haven't been in the mood to write. But don't worry! I promise you that the next chapter will come soon. You will not have to wait nearly as long as you did for this one!**

**Also, do you know any good tips for memorizing a monologue for drama class? If so please tell me!**

**Lastly, would anyone be willing to beta my story? I'm sure it could be a lot better if I had others to proof read it. **

**Thank you, awesome readers!**

**Like it? Hate it? Continue it? Delete it? Read it. REVIEW it.**


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